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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28355910">couch cuddles</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggslut420/pseuds/eggslut420'>eggslut420</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Realicide - Grej (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cuddling, Fluff, IVE SAID IT MANY TIMES AND ILL SAY IT AGAIN, Other, Snuggling, if u know me from jregtok no u dont, realistic and orwellian r very underrated characters, realistic does not understand his feelings, sleeping, this is a rlly random ship but i like it, this is not that good</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:34:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>529</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28355910</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggslut420/pseuds/eggslut420</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>realistic and orwellian cuddle on the couch and thats all</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Orwellian/Realistic Realist, Realistic Realist/Orwellian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>couch cuddles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Being the leader of the realists is the most tiring thing anybody could ever experience. I was sick of the team’s petty squabbling. Inversive has become… overconfident since the death of Moralist, Boring Mole was… a mole, Orwellian was constantly going off on incomprehensible tangents, and Post Left refuses to talk to anybody. There was a sort of uneasy, unstable aura looming around the household now. Basically, I was tired of everybody’s bullshit. So, there I was, sitting on the couch, drinking my daily dose of caffeine to numb the headaches I got from my roommates screaming. I was hoping to God, although I didn’t believe in him, that nobody would bug me.</p><p>Alas, there he was. Orwellian, holding a copy of 1984 as that bastard usually is. He gave me a quick look with a neutral, indiscernible expression, before sitting down on the couch next to me. I shot him a glare, telepathically communicating to him to get the fuck away.</p><p>“Sorry, you probably wanna be alone.”, he sighed, walking away, slowly. At first, I felt relieved. Finally, somebody leaves me alone. But then, somehow, I was consumed with this unfamiliar sort of guilt. Everybody thinks he’s irritating, maybe he needs some company. Honestly, he’s the least annoying of the team.</p><p>“Wait, you can stay!” He turned back, eyes widened. He sat back down, crossing his legs. There was something kind of charming about how he sat there, face buried in his book. How he’d go on tangents about some sort of nonsense, relating to whatever dystopian novel he was into. How, even with the bar on his mouth, you could still study his face and know he was smiling. It was sort of endearing.</p><p>He was quiet, and respectful. Which is all I could ask for, honestly. I’m still unsure why, but he rested his head on my shoulder. There must be a meaning behind why he chose my shoulder, of all places, to rest his head on. But I wasn’t complaining.<br/>This, naturally, startled me. I shivered a little bit.</p><p>“Sorry.” The other realist caught on and jerked his head up, and I internally cursed myself.</p><p>“No, you can stay.”, I whispered. His eyes widened in surprise, but he placed his head back. It felt kind of nice to be used as a headrest, hell, I could get used to this. I put my arm around him, pulling him a little closer. And god, I’d never been this close with him before, but it was so nice. I wanted more of this. I’m honestly clueless as to what that means for me, but I don’t think that matters, really.</p><p>His arms were now fully wrapped around my frame, and I just sat there, relaxing into his embrace. Why the fuck did it make me feel so hot all over, when his hands were cold?</p><p>Orwellian yawned, before completely falling into a peaceful rest. I didn’t DARE fucking move, because I don’t wanna risk waking him up. So I set my coffee aside, and let myself fall into a slumber as my friend rested against my side.</p><p>I still don’t know why it felt so goddamn good.</p>
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